Chapter Forty: A Certain Sense of Purpose

Rose wanted to struggle, wanted to beg, but was helpless to do either. Her entire focus was getting enough purchase on the stone wall with her feet to lift her body, ease the tension of her master's grip on her throat, and take a single, life-giving breath. It wasn't a worry for long. When no answer was forthcoming, he threw her to the floor with a snarl of rage and dropped his son more gently to his feet. Rose scrambled to her knees, extended her arms, placed her forehead on the floor, and stayed there, knowing that her obeisance was much more than just a game tonight. It was her only chance for survival.

"Father, please," Draco began.

"Just answer me, son," Lucius growled, the softness of his voice making it even more menacing.

Draco glanced down at Rose, and his father slammed him against the wall once more. "Don't you dare look to her for instructions," he shouted, his voice echoing eerily off the walls. "Tell me where you were."

"We were at Mab's Cauldron," he managed.

The torches on the walls flared, then sputtered as Lucius fought for control. "And, how is it that you came to be injured?"

His answer was only terrified silence, and Lucius released the boy with a final shove, turning to Rose with his wand extended.

"Father, no!"

Lucius didn't bother to turn, just kept his terrible focus on the trembling form at his feet. "Go to your room, son. I'll deal with you, later."

"Father, it's not her fault!"

"Draco!" Lucius began.

Rose, against her better judgment, finished for him. "Baby, get out of here. You're just making it worse."

That was enough for the boy. With a final worried look, he all but flew from the room.

Rose heard the telltale billow of a cloak as Lucius crouched down before her, yanked her head back with a handful of hair, and forced her to meet his furious glare. "I assure you, you mutinous, lying little bitch, that it couldn't be any worse," he whispered savagely.

It was too much. She began to cry, her body shaking with sobs as she begged for forgiveness, mercy, all of the things she knew he wouldn't give her; not now, not after putting his son in danger. He slammed her head back to the stone, causing a shock of pain, a trickle of blood, then stood.

"Master, please..." she began.

"Don't you dare call me your master," he spat. "You're not worthy to serve me." Rose choked out another sob. "Stop your sniveling, and follow me... silently."

She moved to rise, but was halted by a boot in the ribs. "No!" he barked. "You will not walk in my presence. Crawl."

Swallowing the tiny bit of pride she had left, she rose to her hands and knees and did as he commanded. It was an arduous trip, keeping up with his long stride on bare knees through the house, out the back door, and all the way to the back of the garden... too far away to be seen from any window, she noticed. Whatever horror he had planned for her, he didn't want his son to witness it.

"Stay," he hissed.

She returned to her prostrate form and tried to keep from vomiting by concentrating on what he was doing. Unfortunately, the whispered incantations were too complex or too quiet to amount to much.

He worked for an uncomfortable amount of time. Still, when he finally stepped back to her, she had calmed somewhat. He spoke a single word and her body went limp as a tiny, academic voice in her head registered that this was the same version of the paralyzing hex that Severus had used. Lucius levitated her helpless form into a wooden box... a form-fitting, wooden box, she noted before her mind exploded. Wild eyes darted from side to side to verify what she knew in her heart to be true, then leapt to the figure of Lucius Malfoy standing over her, an impossibly cold wrath in his shadowed eyes.

"You lied to me, Rose," he began with a cold fury. "You disobeyed a direct command, and you placed my son in danger. For that, I condemn you to death."

Her mind was screaming now as she begged him with her eyes to have mercy. He couldn't be serious. This couldn't be happening. Of all the horrors she'd imagined at his hands, this was the last.

No matter how vehemently she denied it, though, the transparent lid to the coffin fell inexorably to a close with an angry flick of his wrist. When he spoke again, the words were muted, but the intention was plain as she was suddenly released from the binding spell.

She froze, closed her eyes, tried not to move. Her hands were beyond her will, now, though, and reached for the boundaries of her tiny prison. When they hit the sides, she lost all rational thought and screamed. It was barely recognizable to her that Lucius began to move, or rather, Lucius remained still and the coffin moved away from him. He fell away slowly as if in a dream as she continued to scream, pounding at the glass top, instinctively begging in words she could no longer understand. Soon, he was just a figure glaring coldly down at her from the sky, waving his wand and speaking silently.

She didn't stop screaming until the first bit of earth fell, hit the glass top with a thud, and scattered. That silenced her completely. She watched in detached horror as the moist soil slowly darkened the light. The last thing she saw was Lucius Malfoy staring down coldly as the grave refilled itself with earth.

Lucius stopped outside his son's door, still trying to collect himself. He had waited an hour, as it was, to do this, to calm his rage, and avoid losing his temper with Draco. He was only a boy, after all, and hardly to be held responsible for the influence of his treacherous maid.

He sighed.

His maid. His sweet pet. Rose.

It broke his heart to think that the one person he'd trusted, to whom he'd opened his heart even just a little, had been lying to him, deceiving him all this time. He was almost afraid to speculate what else he would discover about Rose when he questioned Draco.

Pushing the despair from his heart, he lifted his hand, and knocked softly.

Draco answered immediately, obviously expecting him. "Come in, father."

Lucius spotted his child curled in his favorite chair staring up at him fearfully. He sat down opposite and just took in the boy's appearance for a moment. He'd looked better, but wasn't wounded badly. His left eye was swollen and red. It would be black in the morning. There were welts around his delicate mouth. Other than that, he looked fine. Still...

Lucius reached in his pocket, drew out a restorative, and held it out to the boy who took it with trembling hands. "Don't be afraid, son," he said softly. "This was not your fault."

Draco's eyes met his and he spoke carefully, respectfully, obviously dreading the answer. "Father, where is Rose?"

Lucius frowned. "Alive. Whether she remains in that condition will depend on you," was his cryptic response. "I want you to tell me how long you've been doing this, why you went, what you do when you're there, and what happened tonight." He sat back and steepled his fingers, smiling almost imperceptibly as Draco downed the restorative.

Draco shuddered at the taste, then froze, looking at his father with an almost stricken expression.

"Familiar with the sensation, are you?" Lucius asked softly.

"I remember it," Draco answered. "You gave me Veritaserum when you thought I had feelings for Hermione Granger."

Lucius smiled. "That's true. I had forgotten that." He slid forward in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees wearily. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions about what you and my maid have been up to, and though her life depends on your honesty, I will not have you lying to me for her sake. I don't want to kill her, Draco, but I will do whatever I must for the security of my home and family. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father," he answered automatically.

"Good." Lucius sat back again and settled himself as if preparing for a long stay. "Now, going to this club after I expressly forbade it: whose brainchild was that?"

They talked well into the morning, Draco's forthcoming answers lasting long after the Veritaserum wore off, and Lucius listening patiently, learning almost more than he cared to know about both of them. But the most interesting bit of news was that Rose had been much less than forthcoming about her duties for her former employer.

That she was something more than a personal servant came as no surprise. Rose was vastly overqualified to be a maid and cook, but he would never have guessed that she smuggled "sensitive" items. He had always detected an uncanny resemblance to Alex in her mannerisms, but wrote that off to modern American influence. The fact that she had been a smuggler was too close for comfort. However, it did explain much that he had questioned about her.

He was surprised to find that her lack of directness about her former occupation didn't anger him so much as hurt him. It was an unfamiliar emotion, and an unsettling one. Clearly, he had allowed himself to become far too close to her.

In the end, he decided that he would allow her to live. She was deceptive, but not dangerously so. She had disobeyed him out of love for Draco, had indeed saved the boy's life, and tonight, she had stopped him from taking another. That was more than enough to obtain her master's forgiveness.

Still, an example had to be made. The coffin had been enchanted to allow her to breathe, but not to rest. She'd have to consciously deal with her worst nightmare, thinking that it would result in her death, until he decided she'd learned the lesson he wished to impart. By the time he saw fit to free her, she should be even more docile and much less eager to disobey him.

"Father," Draco's voice interrupted his meditations.

"Yes?"

"Please don't hurt her," he requested softly.

Lucius stared for a moment into his son's eyes, so like his own, yet still touched with a certain quality of youth: a natural warmth, perhaps, and a certain amount of innocence. Finally, he spoke. "It's a bit too late for that, son." Lucius hated the look of anger that suddenly marked his son's features, but continued on, unabated. "She's still with us, however, and it's difficult to believe that I've been that lenient. When I saw the two of you coming up the walk, both bruised and bloody, I... nearly lost control."

Draco's eyes fell. "How badly did you..."

"She'll live," Lucius interrupted. "And, I'll release her soon. For now, I'd like for her to stay where she is... for her own sake. I'm not certain that I could have this civil a conversation with her, yet." He stood and stretched, looming over the small figure in the chair as he did so. "Why don't you get a few hours of rest?"

By evening, Lucius' anger with Rose had returned. Having had a few hours to consider the danger to which she'd exposed his son (Alex Borgin, rival Death Eaters, Voldemort; the list of those who would like to kill or hold hostage the only son of Lucius Malfoy was very, very long) his rage had returned to such a degree that his hands shook when he thought of her. The knowledge that she had brazenly taken Draco from under his father's protection, in the middle of the night, to one of the most feared streets in the wizarding world made him want to leave her in her coffin to rot, no matter what her motivations had been.

Unfortunately, he'd made a promise to his son, and he would not lose the boy's confidence... not again.

So it was that, just before sunset, he found himself standing at the fresh mound of earth, watching the grave empty itself of soil. In a few short minutes, her coffin came into view and he could see the woman inside. It was Rose, of course, but not like he'd ever seen her. Her eyes stared glassily out of a startlingly pale face, bloodless lips were parted as if in a silent scream, and her hair sported a short, silver spike near the temple.

Lucius found within himself an academic interest in her condition, but no feeling, nothing but contempt for the woman who had risked his only child for a few hours of fun. He had been right last night. She wasn't worthy to serve him.

The lid swung open at his command, but she remained unchanged.

"Get up," he commanded brusquely.

She didn't move, just blinked slowly as a single tear, probably from the brightness, fell over her cheek.

He clenched his jaw tightly.

She was in shock, he knew, but it still angered him that she didn't jump at his command.

He lifted his wand and pointed it at her heart. "Crucio!"

She didn't suffer long, just a few seconds before he released her. It was enough to snap her out of her paralysis, though. She practically flew from the coffin and landed at Lucius' feet, encircling his ankles with her arms, covering his boots with kisses, and thanking him through choked sobs.

He kicked her away with a grimace of disgust, and she immediately righted herself, rising only to her knees. Her head was now marked with two wounds, he noticed, the new one beside her eye turning an angry red almost immediately.

"Thank my son for your life. I had every intention of letting you die down there," he growled. "I have a dinner guest arriving in two hours. I expect that you will not keep our meal waiting."

With that, he turned and made his way back to the house, leaving her to recuperate as best she could.

"I apologize for the short notice, Lucius," Severus began, "but under the circumstances, I felt that we should discuss our stratagem without delay." While Lucius assured him that he had not been inconvenienced, Severus allowed his gaze to wander subtly to the unusually-subdued maid. His present agenda had been a convenient excuse to come to the manor and find out why Alex hadn't kept her appointment with him today. He had so wanted to tell her that his potion was a success, and that she would be free by Wednesday. The two angry wounds on the side of her face, the finger-shaped bruises on her throat, and her abject silence spoke of terrible violence at Malfoy's hands. Severus cringed in anger at both of them: Lucius for his nasty temper, and Alex for not being able to stay out of trouble for a few short days.

"...but to what circumstances are you referring?" Lucius finished.

Severus blinked once, slowly, not understanding. "Have you not read the afternoon news today?"

Lucius cast a withering glance at the servant. "No. I've been otherwise engaged. What's happened?"
"Adam Harmon... passed on this morning," Severus said with a rare smile. "Our path to Voldemort is clear at last."

The atmosphere in the room changed from subdued to charged in an instant.

Lucius shot forward, suddenly extremely attentive. "Alex?"

Severus shook his head. "Natural causes. It would seem that the fates smile on us." He took a delicate sip of wine. "I wondered why you hadn't contacted me. Our allies are poised to move when you're ready. What would you have me do?"

Lucius dropped his fork and stood abruptly. "Go to the conference room immediately and gather our associates. I'll be along in a moment."

With a brief nod, and a worried glance at Rose, Severus swept out the door. Lucius waited for him to leave, then turned on the maid. She quailed at his approach.

"Your services will be needed in the conference room when my guests arrive," he said coldly. "I expect you to be on your best behavior."

Nervously, she brushed the front of her apron, never meeting his gaze. "Fine," she answered a bit more tersely then she'd intended. "Wine and hors-d'oeuvres, I presume?"

The warmth seemed to be stolen from the room as he grabbed her chin and yanked her face up to meet his gaze. "You listen to me, young woman. My patience with you is hanging by a thread. Push me tonight, and I will kill you."

With a violent shake of her head she forced her chin from his grip and shoved him away. A solid backhand was his answer, and in a flash, her fist had flown for his face. He caught the swing easily, almost as if he'd expected it. In his free hand was his wand, leveled at her throat.

Her gaze traveled from the wand to his cold eyes. "Go ahead," she urged him quietly.

She looked as if she'd cry when he shook his head and sheathed the weapon, "It would be all too easy," he answered. "You're unbalanced, right now, and understandably so. You will, however, collect yourself and see to your responsibilities. Remember that you came to my home to serve a purpose. That is all that matters tonight."

Her mouth opened slightly and brown eyes widened as his words reached Alex's heart, instantly shifting her perspective. He was right. She had come here with an objective: revenge. In all the confusion, she had managed to abandon it. That could change tonight. There remained one last chance to justify her presence in this place.

She straightened her shoulders and looked into her employer's eyes fearlessly. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm not myself." She smiled at her private joke. "And, you're right, of course. I do have responsibilities. Now is not the time to forget that."

Lucius relaxed visibly. "This is the most important gathering I will ever host, Rose. Give me the slightest excuse, and I'll put you back in the ground permanently. Do you understand me?"

She paled. "Yes, sir. I do."

For a moment longer, he glared, asserting his dominance, then turned away and swept from the room. Alex flashed a malevolent grin at his back.

emerald sparrow: Well, thank you so much, and welcome! Have a drink, have a seat, have a muffin. Glad to have you! Hope this update was fast enough for you.

mary: Now that you know the answer to your question, what did you think? Too lenient? Too sadistic? Inquiring authors want to know.

Quietude: Hi! I missed you! I agree that it's a shame Rose (heavily under Alex's influence) couldn't keep her nose clean during her last weekend of confinement. I'm sure she regrets it more than anyone. I'm also insanely curious about your dislike of our submissive little Rosie-poo. Why do you hate her so much? Come on, enlighten me! Grunnarc the Loaf hates her, too, and I'm curious to know if your reasons are similar. I have made a mental note of your vote for Alex to come out on top, and I'm logging it with the others. Thanks for the input, and hey! don't be afraid to chime in, here. I know it's pathetic, but I get lonely.

Arabella Minerva: So, still think that Rose enjoyed her punishment? In his defense, Lucius did promise that he'd find something she didn't get off on. Sev is back, and I'm happy about it, too. I miss the somber little git. Thank you for the compliment on the ending. That meant a lot to me.

Zariva: Good to hear from you! I'm so glad that those two scenes scared you! I was really, really hoping that I wouldn't bypass frightening and go straight to trite. And, yeah, I imagine when Lucius couldn't find his son or the maid, he panicked. Though, I am of the mind that he was still searching for them, hoping to overhear another revealing conversation or something of that nature, when they returned, otherwise he would've summoned her. Draco will be in a tough position as far as Alex is concerned if her ever finds out about the deception. He's close enough to Rose to defend her even in the face of his father's fury, but if he finds that she's nothing but a clever disguise for a woman he despises, who knows what he'll feel. As far as Alex being in love our dear potions master, that's an enormous wrench in the works. Whatever will those girls do?

Lost emerald: Hi! Welcome home! Grab a seat, have a drink. Good to see you. It's good to know that this chapter was so well-liked. I'm starting to love it just because it brought some of my beloved reviewers out of the woodwork. Stupid Gryffindors is right. How thick can you get? Well, we've seen the answer to that question in the books. Those two are beyond gullible. My only regret in this chapter was not being able (for reasons that revolved around Draco's character development) to take Ron out. It would've felt so good to write his untimely demise. Merlin, I hate that kid! Hope this update came quickly enough.

Fleur K: Well, well, look who's back. Hi! Welcome! Thank you for your compliment on Lucius' softer side. It had been quite a challenge to do just that: soften him up a bit without destroying his character. He's still a mean-hearted bastard when he needs to be. I would sooner have not written the story than have him lose that. So, you think that Alex should bend to Rose a little bit? How interesting. Why is that? I'm really curious. Enlighten me.